And So, Hikigaya Hachiman's Winter was Warmer than He Expected
by Rangatang
Summary: Set in the future. A little OOC. Oneshot? (Summary is a work in progress)
1. Chapter 1

2:45 am. The numerals on his smartphone shone brightly against the dark silhouette of the doorway as one Hikigaya Hachiman fumbled around with the lock of his front door, hands numb from the cold. Outside, apart from the occasional roar of a car whizzing past, the neighborhood was dead quiet.

 _Click._

With a sigh of relief, Hachiman quietly opened and closed the door, making sure not to make too much noise. Out of the 5 members of the Hikigaya household, the woman (and the cat) were known to be light sleepers, and could get particularly nasty if disturbed.

" _Looks like I'm sleeping on the couch again."_

However, there was no time for sleep, and he knew that. Hikigaya Hachiman was a upcoming name in the Japanese literary world, famous for his satirical novels on the Japanese business world. His first title, _To Work is to Lose,_ was very well received, andhad a surprisingly varied audience, from indecisive high school students to the weary middle-aged salary man.

However, Hachiman found himself looking at another all-nighter. Ironically, he could not afford to win at all. He had bills to pay, a family to take care of, and deadlines coming up very soon. He still had an editorial to finish for the news agency he was in charge of. This industry he was in was a cutthroat one, and if he wasn't at the top of his game, he would easily wither and die out.

Sighing, Hachiman undid his snow laden outer wear, and proceeded to the closed living room, MAX coffee in one hand, his laptop case in another. Closing the door to the rest of the house, he shivered as he proceeded to make a makeshift nest with pillows and blankets on the couch he was on. Apparently someone had forgotten to turn of the air conditioning when they left this room. He did not have to look far for the culprit though. The textbooks and a messy, masculine signature written on each of the books gave away the true identity of the culprit.

 _Honestly, I tell him so many times to turn off the air conditioning, and still he doesn't listen. It's money down the drain. I swear…_

However, today he did not mind as much. As he found out in high school, the cold was his friend when he was presented with a difficult task. It helped him think clearly. Sardonically, Hachiman smiled to himself. High school. What a wonderful fuckery of emotion and hormones. Not everyone got to enjoy the slice of life filled time depicted in manga and light novels. In his run, masks were donned, relationships were broken, and miscommunication caused many a sleepless night for multiple parties. And usually, he would be at the epicenter of the problem, or close to it, at least.

 _In a sense, I could be considered a martyr, right? After all, if I look back at it, I was the hero that Sobu High needed, but not the one it deserved. Kudos America, you really know how to write catchy movie lines._

Snow began to fall outside, but he was quite comfortable now. A soft blanket covered his lap, and a can of warm coffee sat next to him, already half empty. With a yawn, Hachiman opened his laptop, the HP logo blazing in the relative darkness. No fancy Apple laptop for this writer. Hachiman abhorred Apple computers. After all, didn't the sight of an Apple computer make one think of a college student typing away importantly at the window of a Starbucks? Didn't it _really_ want to make one punch that person, thick glasses and all? Stupid riajuu hipster bastard. Just go die in a fire. Oh, and take your stupid laptop with you.

Those thoughts aside, he opened the piece he was working on. An editorial on this week's theme; love and marriage. His _favorite_ topic.

 _Damn, all those years of playing VNs and watching anime, and not a single iota of inspiration._

Racking his brains, Hachiman couldn't help but give out another enormous yawn. The cheap coffee he downed earlier did nothing to help his brain stay alert. In fact, the cool room contrasted well with the warmth from the blanket and the couch. Slowly, against every fiber of his being, his eyelids drooped.

 _It wouldn't hurt if I close them for just a second…_

* * *

 _-man"_

 _Five more minutes mom. Let me sleep._

"-chiman."

 _Louder. Please shut up._

"Hachiman, wake up."

That was not his mother, nor was it Komachi. He instantly opened both of his eyes, in spite being interrupted from his accidental nap. There in front of him, garbed in a simple nightgown, with a look colder then the now raging blizzard outside, stood his wife. Yukino.

* * *

"I've told you time again, come home early. Its 4:00 in the morning. You haven't even seen the kids these past couple of days. Even I saw my father on a more regular basis, and he was a politician. And another thing-"

Meekly, Hachiman could only keep his head bowed. His wife was mad, and justifiably so. His work load as both the editor of a big news agency and an author took time away from his family. With the children's schooling and his exhausting work hours, there wasn't much interaction between him and his kids.

 _Sheesh, I've turned into my shitty old man, believe it. Sorry pops, for every insult I have ever called you behind your back. But you're still sometimes a bastard. Most of the time._

Suddenly, a mug was thrust in front of him, the contents filled with steaming café colored liquid. Eyes widening in surprise, Hachiman looked up.

"You were always a hard working idiot," Yukino smiled sadly. "Whatever happened to your ambitions of being a house-husband?"

Accepting the cup, Hachiman returned her smile with a tired one of his own. "When the ones you love the most are dependent on you, even a house-husband would go to find work."

"Ara, was that supposed to be a witty comeback? That's very unlike you, Sleepygaya-kun. Very weak."

"Leave me be. Also, aren't you Hikigaya as well?"

Silence.

 _Hmm_ , he thought, _no comeback._ Apparently, there was more than one Sleepygaya in this household. Noticing his wife's retreating footsteps, he returned his attention to the sleeping computer. _She must be going back to sleep._

Idly noting the Pan-san cup design, he took a sip of the now pleasant coffee, and let out a small moan of appreciation. Like everything his wife cooked, it was simply heavenly. The perfect ratio of sugar to caffeine to milk, at just the right temperature. Bliss. Not that he would tell her that.

"Oh, I don't need to hear that. I already know." Yukino smiled haughtily as she returned from the kitchen, another mug in her hand.

"How-"

"We've been married for quite a while now. Even back during our Service Club days, no matter how much you tried to hide it, I knew you enjoyed my cooking."

Hachiman looked away, grumbling to himself, though without any ill-will. Suddenly, a flash of cold, followed by a warm pressure on his right side. Long black tresses fell over his chest as she rested her head on his shoulder. Despite being an avid fan of winter and cold temperatures, Yukino cuddled into him as if he were a tangible, huggable fire in the middle of an ice storm.

"You know, the kids miss you."

"I know."

"I miss you."

"I know."

"Do you miss us?"

"Is that even a question?"

"Fair enough."

A comfortable silence, punctuated by the occasional click-clacking of the keys.

"Hey…"

"Yeah?"

"Is there ever a day where you regret the decision we made?"

Yukino's eyes narrowed. With a small effort, she propped herself to look her husband directly in his eyes.

"It was a decision that had to be done, Hachi. The kids need a stable parent figure in their lives. We both know how it was, growing up in households with physically or emotionally absent parents. And I will not let our children grow up in the same environment we did."

"I get that. It's just, I feel bad. I mean, you were making a name for yourself in the political world. You could have been on the diet now, or even the mayor. I'm just an editor. I could have easily staye-"

"Again, does nothing go through that thick skull of yours? We-no I chose this lifestyle. And I regret nothing." Her eyes softened. "For once in your life, you, Hikigaya Hachiman, wanted to work, not on behalf of anyone else, but for yourself. To utilize the talents that you had, developed by your own merit. And people noticed that. Beyond me, Sensei, Yuigahama-san and Komachi-san, people finally noticed you and your talents. They were willing to provide you with an outlet to cultivate that talent. As a wife and as your biggest supporter, how could I say no?"

Outside the howling winds gradually died down. The moon, previously hidden by the tumultuous snow, shone faintly through the drawn curtains, outlining the slender figure of Yukino. Even after all these years, Hachiman found his wife to be intoxicatingly beautiful.

Yukino smiled, her eyes moist with emotion. "My only regret is being away from you. Seeing you work so hard, you forget to sleep, eat, or even visit your family from time to time pains me. I know it's for our own good but it hurts, knowing that you're working so hard, but I barely see you."

Her smile turned more mischievous. "And I haven't retired. I am merely taking a much needed sabbatical. After all, I have to give my opponents a fair chance. Besides, we both know that there is nothing _genuine_ about the political world. And you know how much we hate illusions. Just look at my dear sister."

Hearing this, Hachiman let out a snicker. Haruno, like her father before her, was a big-shot politician, and married a CEO of a technology company. However, despite her seemingly perfect life, finding the copious amounts of make up scattered in her dressing room and seeing her naked face was a sight that still gave their children nightmares.

Silence fell once more in the cold room. As he typed, Hachiman could feel Yukino drift off, with the occasional jerk rooting her to the world of the awake.

"You know…"

"Hmm?"

"It's been a big mystery to me, one I've largely been chalking up as circumstance. What exactly made you fall for me?"

Yukino paused, a look of surprise on her face. "You know, I wonder that myself. You're one of the biggest pessimists I know, despite your claims of being a so called "realist." Scientists should be harvesting your eyes instead of fish for DHA instead, they're so rotten. You used to use your sad excuse of a childhood to justify your decisions, with each story more awkward then the last. You also played "martyr" many times, inflicting so much harm on yourself that even I've wondered if you were a masochist. And another thing…"

With every attack on his being, Hachiman felt more and more defeated. Good to know that his wife, even after all these years, hadn't lost her touch.

A soft, frail warmth covered his hand, interlacing itself between his own fingers. Looking over at Yukino again, he noticed her blue eyes were warm again, her mouth curved upward in a small smile.

"You are kind to a fault, work harder then anyone I know, and are willing to go to any lengths for those you love. You're strong, and able to do things that no one would be willing to put themselves through. You put yourself through so much just to see the people you love happy. And despite your twisted views on the world, you still expect so much from it, and are willing to sacrifice anything and everything to make others happy." She paused, searching for the right words.

"Simply put, despite all your shortcomings, you are you. That won't ever change. And I fell in love with you, imperfections and all. Plus, it doesn't hurt that your eyes remind me of Pan-san. And that alone is worth at least a hundred, no a thousand Yukino points."

Hachiman looked away, his features tinged with a bright red.

"Th-thanks."

"Mm. Here. I'll correct any mistakes. Not expecting a lot of mistakes from you, but it is you we are talking about."

Sighing, Hachiman leaned back, staring at the ceiling as his wife tapped away at the computer, computer glasses procured from somewhere resting atop the bridge of her nose. The article was nearly complete. All he had to do was write one more paragraph, and the article would be finished.

Not long after, the computer was thrust in front of him again.

"Done. Just some grammatical errors here and there."

"Thanks."

Taking back the slim device, he began to type again. Snow fell softly now, and he could hear the soft breaths of his wife as she fell asleep once more.

* * *

"Hey."

"Hmm…?"

"I'm finished. Let's go upstairs."

"Alright."

"Also…thanks."

"For what? I'm merely doing what you would do for me, am I right?"

"Yeah, but still… thanks."

"Idiot." She smiled warmly and pecked him on the cheek, before failing to suppress a gigantic yawn. "Let's go to bed."

Leaving their empty cups on the coffee table, Hachiman and Yukino Hikigaya headed for the stairs, eager to enjoy each other's warmth before they drifted off into some well deserved sleep.

Downstairs, the computer dimmed, its screen displaying a single word document.

"… _Marriage is a construct that entraps a person. An institution where one's existence supposedly goes to die. A socially and lawful contract that binds two complete strangers together, forced to procure more strangers, and live their remaining lives domesticated, chained even further to the laws and social constructs of this cruel and unfair world. Funny, how humans are one of the few species to chain ourselves to such a binding agreement. Under God's discretion, we make a deal with the devil._

 _But, if you manage to find the right one, no matter what the circumstance, hold on to her, as if your life depends on it. Because, it very well may so. Marriage may be where your individual existence goes to die, but if that is true, then it is also where your existence is reborn, rising from the ashes like a phoenix, of old worries and indecisiveness. Marital bliss is an acquired taste, like many of the finer things in life. And in this world, bliss, while rare, comes in a variety of forms, like coming home to the few people who actually love and care about you. Yes, it can be said that marriage is both the greatest blessing and curse of all. A wise person once wrote: "_ When it comes to marriages or the future, no one knows what's in store. No amount of preparation can protect you from all the unforeseen grief. However, everyone has the right to wish for bliss. In order to prepare for what's coming, one must work for the best possible outcome." _In conclusion, if you find a partner, and if said partner is willing to stay up until you come home at ungodly hours with coffee, and is willing to continue to forgo sleep until you finish work, never, and I mean never, let that person go._


	2. Chapter 2

7:45 AM. Saturday. The crimson numerals shone on the digital alarm next to a certain bed, in a certain room, in a certain house in Chiba. Winter sunlight, already weakened from the effects of the season desperately tried to break the fortified defenses that was said bedroom's curtains. Eventually it found an opening, illuminating the previously dark room. Unfortunately, a stray beam managed to land on one of the bed's occupants, falling directly in the eyes of a certain Hikigaya Yukino.

"Mmm…"

Hikigaya Yukino was not one to laze about in bed. Ever since she was a young girl, she had been a morning bird. Early riser, relatively early sleeper. That was her family's _modus operandi_ before she was married. True, there were times where her father slept in, but that was only in times of extreme exhaustion stemming from the position he was in. But on a whole, the Yukinoshita family was a family that woke early, slept early, and maximized their time extremely efficiently in between. Even when she lived alone, Yukino lived by that unspoken principle.

So _of course_ her husband and children _had_ to be heavy sleepers, sharing a chronic problem of oversleeping.

Sleeping in was a foreign concept to her. When she grew older and began to work it became worse. True, her stint in the political world did demand rigorous hours, but for her current job, it was a necessity. Now, as the matriarch and as the lynchpin to the Hikigaya household, she had to balance not only her schedule, but the schedules of three others as well. Suffice to say, without Yukino, the Hikigaya household would devolve into a chaotic mess.

"Nghrk…mmm…"

Glancing to her left, she found her husband curled up in the midst of sleep, his face facing her. Despite herself, Yukino studied her husband with great interest. Messy hair tinged with flecks of grey from overworking fell over his forehead. His brow, usually knit from stress was now relaxed and carefree. His normally cu- _disgusting_ dead eyes were closed, hidden from the cruel world that tormented their master so. And somehow, as was the case every night, his head missed the pillow itself, and was resting on bare mattress while his hands grasped the bed sheets lightly.

She had to admit, he was very cute while sleeping. So peaceful, so innocent. Almost childlike.

Sighing, she brushed some of his hair from his eyes, and wiped excess drool from his mouth. No matter how cute he may seem, he still looked like a mess.

At that moment, he chose to wake up. Bleary black orbs met her strong sapphire ones.

"Mnn…huh?"

Yukino smiled wryly at him. "Morning sleepyhead."

Hachiman, in a daze, unconsciously felt around for his phone. Locating it, he squinted at the screen, too bright for his heavy lidded eyes. 8:00.

"Ugh…too early…5 more minutes…" And promptly fell back asleep.

Yukino rolled her eyes with a mixture of exasperation and disdain. As always, her husband was useless. She mulled over the possibility of waking him up, but knew he would be in a bad mood for longer then she cared for. Seriously, did anybody appreciate the value of morning in this household besides her? The morning was sacred. Wasting the morning was akin to wasting a third of the day, weekends be damned.

Sighing for the second time this morning, she turned to get up and start the day. Only to find that she couldn't. Her idiot husband's arms were wrapped tightly around her, preventing her from escaping. Not for the first time, Yukino cursed her delicate frame and lack of physical strength.

It suddenly grew warmer. She realized that he had unconsciously pulled her closer to him.

"Mfuu…" A sigh of incredible bliss escaped his mouth, his lips curved ever so slightly upwards. Even though she knew he was sleeping, Yukino couldn't help but feel happy.

"You idiot…" Yukino smiled lovingly at his sleeping face, her previous irritation washed away at his unconscious actions.

She let out a quiet yawn. The heat from the covers and her husband _did_ feel very nice, and it was cold outside. Really cold in fact. Judging by the sudden loss in sunlight, it appeared to have started snowing again. She snuggled in closer to her husband, and although he had released his grip long ago, she wrapped his arms around her lightly, and closed her eyes.

 _Perhaps he is right. It is too early to wake up._

* * *

Hello everyone, this is Rangatang. Thank you everyone for the positive comments! It means so much to me!

I intended for the previous story to be a one shot, but I just had to continue, and was bolstered by the positive reviews telling me to continue. So I may continue with this collection of vignettes, time permitting.

Sorry for the short chapter, I initially had something else in mind, but this scenario popped into my mind, and before I knew it, I had written a good part of it. So I had to finish it.

Please leave me reviews! I love reviews.

What should I write about next chapter?

Thanks once again,

Rangatang.


	3. Chapter 3

5 PM. Saturday evening. Rain pelted down against the windowpanes of the Hikigaya household. Oddly enough, the usually lively household of the Hikigaya family was muted today. Two occupants were missing, one gone out to do groceries, the other stuck at school attending to some club business.

The house was mostly dark, the lights in the kitchen and living room being the sole source of illumination. Apart from the pattering of rain, the only sounds in the house were the hum of a kotatsu, and the sound of scritching from a pencil. The owner of the pencil, one Hikigaya Yukiyo, had her eyebrows scrunched in determination, while her father, one Hikigaya Hachiman, lounged languidly on the nearby sofa, eyes glued to his beloved Vita-chan. His smartphone, long dead, lay uselessly next to him.

 _~Round Clear!~_

With a sigh of boredom, Hikigaya Hachiman shut off his game and placed it to the side (not without saving it, of course). Lazily, he closed his eyes, preparing for an evening nap. A genuine rarity, considering his work schedule and nagging wife.

 _Saturdays really were the best_ , he thought blissfully.

Scrich scritch. Rub rub. Scritch.

 _Ahh…_

Rub rub rub.

 _Peace and quie…_

Rub. RRrriiiiiippp.

Cursing the gods above for his ill luck, Hachiman opened one eye in mild irritation at the noise. The 6 year old (or 6 and a half, as she liked to assert) was glaring at her ripped notebook, tears of anger and frustration forming in her eyes.

Despite himself, Hachiman struggled to hide a smile as his heart melted. Time for Papa Hachiman to play the big hero.

"Yo, Yuki." Mentally he snickered to himself, although secretly he missed the two accompanied groans that usually followed. "Everything all right?"

"Yukiyo is fine."

Odd, Hachiman thought. Yukiyo had never been this curt. Was she frustrated? Possibly. She _did_ had a bad habit of doing things by herself, and refused to ask others for any help. Perhaps genetic, inherited from her mother's side? He looked down at the workbook.

Ah. Math. The Achilles Heel of one too many Hikigaya. This was his chance to break that bad habit of hers.

"Doesn't look like it." He plopped himself down diagonal from her, attempting to look over her problem. "You know, while Mama may be the expert in math, (and everything else, he added mentally with reluctance,) Daddy isn't that bad."

"Yukiyo don't need your help."

"Are you sure?" he said as he attempted to pull the book towards himself, before it was snatched away by Yukiyo.

"Go away! You're annoying! Yukiyo can do it all by herself. Leave!"

Hachiman recoiled internally, although he didn't show it on the outside. It was time to teach her a lesson.

"Fine. Suit yourself." His mouth thinned, lips tightened. His eyebrows furrowed angrily. He got up, and headed to the open doorway of the living room, into the rest of the dark house.

Pausing, he looked back at the still defiant eyes of Yukiyo, although they were now mixed with a hint of fear and shame. Then he turned,grabbed his phone, and with a calculated amount of force, shut the door behind him.

* * *

Hikigaya Yukiyo, like her brother, was a sweet child. She was rare to get angry, was popular with her class, and had the most radiant smile plastered on her face nearly 24/7. However, she was somewhat of a daddy's girl. See, the dynamics of the Hikigaya household worked like this: while all four members loved each other equally, Yukiyo was a daddy's girl, while her brother was a mama's boy.

So when she blurted out her frustrations at her poor father, she slowly realized she may have hurt her papa. And she didn't want to hurt her papa. Her papa was never angry. He was a sweet papa. A loving papa. A happy papa. The papa who bought her toys, took her out to eat ice cream, tucked her in and came to her school events no matter how busy he was, and always gave the bestest, warmest hugs. She-

 _Drip._

She had to-

 _Drip. Drip._

"…apologize." Her voice came out in a soft whisper. Her eyes were scrunched up, brows furrowed similar to her father. She could not cry, she told herself. She was a big girl. Big girls don't cry.

(Of course, the tears streaming from the sides of her eyes begged to differ).

She got up from the kotatsu, and ran to the door.

"Papa!"

Opening the door, she met darkness. Not a sight could be seen, even with the light from the room emanating behind her.

"Pa…pa?"

Yukiyo wasn't afraid of much, but this did not apply to darkness. Especially since she had secretly watched a scary movie on TV when she was supposed to be sleeping.

 _Creak._

Yukiyo froze. It came from above. Near the steps. She tried looking up, but couldn't see anything.

"Papa?" The tone in her voice was a little more frightened. The tears she had forced to stop began welling in her eyes again, this time out of fear.

 _Ding._ The sound of the microwave went off. But no one was in the kitchen. She knew, because if someone was in the kitchen, the light had to be on. Mama told her so.

The creaking grew louder. She shrieked and ran back to the kotatsu, diving underneath it. The muffled thumps of footsteps grew louder and louder.

It was a ghost! Yukiyo thought to herself. A ghost from the movie! The ghost that ate little girls! But papa would beat it up. Her papa could beat anyone. Except…

Her papa was angry with her.

"…Yukiyo's sorry papa." Yukiyo whispered to herself. She kept repeating it, like a sort of prayer, hoping the footsteps would go away. They only increased in volume.

"I'm Sorry Papa." Yukiyo repeated, louder this time. The ghost was in the room with her now. It was going to eat her too! If her papa were here, the ghost would be too scared and leave.

But he wasn't here. And it was HER fault.

The footsteps stopped in front of her. A flash of lightning, accompanied with the boom of thunder. The lights went out. Two soft thuds above her. She immediately went still. Maybe if she was really quiet, the ghost would leave.

The flaps of the kotatsu opened. She screamed, trying to get away from the hands that reached for her. But they were too quick, and grabbed her. She squirmed, but the hands were too strong.

 _It's over,_ she thought, resignedly. _The ghost is going to eat me._

However…

 _Ghosts are supposed to be cold. This ghost is warm_ , she thought dimly.

Then another flash of lightning. The lights came back on. Slowly, she realized that she was pressed against a chest. A chest she knew really well. And a smell. Papa's cologne. She looked up. Her father's face looked down at her, worry and alarm reflected in his eyes.

"Are you ok?! What's the matter?"

The dam that were her tear ducts was close to bursting.

"Papa…you big idiot! I thought you were gone…and and I tried to see where you were… and and the microwave…and…"

The dam burst.

"WAAAAAAAHHHH!"

Still a bit shocked, Hachiman could only stroke his daughter's hair and continue to hold her tightly. He hadn't meant to leave her for long. He simply had to go upstairs to charge his phone and check his mail.

"Shh…It's all right. Papa's here."

Muffled sobs, laden with fear, anger, shame and frustration, returned his consoling.

"You know…Papa didn't mean to be gone for so long. Papa's sorry. Were you afraid?"

An obvious question, but judging by the lessened sobbing, it seemed to ease her, at least slightly.

"Were you afraid of the dark?"

A nod.

Hachiman pulled her away from him, gently brushing the tears with his hand. While she was still crying, the vast majority of tears seemed to have stopped. Her lower lip still trembled though, an endearing sight.

"Here. Papa made you some milk. It's your favorite. Two scoops of sugar, one scoop of sweet cream, a dash of spice, a-"

"-and chocolate in between." Yukiyo smiled amidst tears and finished the nonsensical poem. Like her father, she had an immense sweet tooth.

The two sat in silence. Both sipping from their respective mugs. He with his instant coffee, she with her specialized drink. The drink helped to calm her down.

"Papa…I'm sorry." Her head was cast down, face unrecognizable. Hachiman quirked an eyebrow at the change in the way she referred to herself.

"Yukiyo. Raise your head." She stiffened, but slowly brought her head up. She tried reading her father's expression, but nothing was written on his face.

A flash of pain. She yelped, rubbing her forehead. Hachiman had just flicked her forehead.

"That's your punishment for yelling at your father."

"Sorry…" she muttered.

His face softened. He brought himself closer to his daughter.

"It's ok to get angry. But you have to learn not to speak like that to your parents. Ok?"

She nodded again.

He sighed, and continued.

"The world is not very nice. People do things that make themselves happy. One day, when you enter the real world, you too will have to do things too, that make you happy, but others sad. But you have to realize, you can't do everything on your own. It's ok to ask for help. No one's going to make fun of you for it."

He smiled wryly. "You know, you're just like Papa in that regard."

She looked at him, wonder in her eyes. "Really?"

"Really. Papa was soo bullheaded, just like you. Only difference is, he had Mama and Auntie Yui to help him out with that. But you, you're lucky. You have me, Mama, your brother, Auntie Yui, your friends, and SOOO many others to help you. Papa's actually jealous."

She giggled at the mock scowl that crossed his face. He smiled in return.

"Don't tell Mama I told you that though. Promise?"

"Promise."

Silence once more. This time, the atmosphere was more content.

Hachiman stood up, stretching his arms. He collected the cups, and was about to head to the kitchen to wash them, before a tug at his pants stopped him. He looked down, surprised.

"Can you help me, please?" Her face faced the ground, her shoulders bunched up together. She looked fragile, almost afraid of his answer.

He smiled.

"Of course."

* * *

Hi everyone, Rangatang here with another chapter.

This one is a bit longer, and a bit different. I saw a gif of Rumi, and envisioned Hachiman and Yukino's daughter. So I had to write a chapter based off of that. It's set in a rainy setting, as suggested by one reviewer. Again thanks for the suggestions! I loved them all!

The age had me confused, but what the hey. 6 is a pretty malleable age. Edited this because I felt 7 was too old. 6 is pretty young though. 6 it shall be!

Hope you like this chapter! Yukiyo (perhaps Yukio is the male form?), after doing some research, means both snow or luck. I'm assuming this is based off of the way you read the kanji. It's both a girl's name and a guy's name (according from the website I pulled the name from), but isn't that common. Huh.

Thanks for all the reviews and suggestions! It really keeps me motivated. Keep em' coming!

I want to do a chapter with Yukino and the mysterious son, deviate from Hachiman a bit. I have other ideas as well...

Not sure when I'll next update, but hopefully it will be soon!

Bye for now!

Rangatang

* * *

(then and than is my achilles heel...)


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